


you can show me your heart

by glazedsun



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Animal Transformation, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-09 03:11:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13472502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glazedsun/pseuds/glazedsun
Summary: “Hey, head,” Niall says, his voice that forced cheerful Bressie recognises as a cover for the anxiety just under the surface.“Hey, chief,” Bressie says, watching Niall carefully, trying to get a read on him and understand what in the fuck just happened.“So… I guess you’ve got some questions, then?” Niall asks after a few tense moments between them. Bressie nods. “That was me, yes, as a cat. I… do that, turn into a cat.”Alternate Title: "You're a Bit Dense, Breslin."





	you can show me your heart

**Author's Note:**

> so this started as a dream that i had, and naturally my first thought was that cat niall needed to exist in fic form. this was so much fun to write! massive thanks to **dearmrsawyer** for the beta and for helping me figure out what to do with the ending!! and thank you as well to the mods for running this fest. thanks also to my roommate's overdramatic cat, who inspired the stomping.
> 
> the title is, of course, from niall's "since we're alone".
> 
> one additional warning for mentions of anxiety and nerves, though no actual anxiety attacks happen.

When Bressie gets home from a long day at the studio, there’s something a little strange. No, make that a lot strange. He finds himself watching as a tailless, stocky, cat stomps past him, carrying a dirty sock in its mouth.

“Um,” he says, blinking.

The cat sets down the sock. It looks up at him, big blue eyes staring as it lets out a trill before picking the sock back up and resuming its trek. 

“Okay then,” Bressie says slowly to himself, following the cat, curious as to what’s going on. He watches in surprise when the cat drops the sock near the washing machine, then turns around and leaves the room.

Minutes later, the cat comes in with another sock.

Seeing a strange cat in his house is weird. Actually, seeing a cat stomp down the hall like an annoyed child is weirder. Bressie’s pretty sure that seeing a strange cat cleaning his flat might possibly be the weirdest thing he’s ever experienced, though.

Sock after sock appear in a pile, followed by a flannel.

It’s when the cat comes into the room, struggling with a t-shirt that’s at least three times its size, that Bressie decides to finally put an end to the madness.  
He crouches down, holding out his hand for the cat to sniff. It hesitates before leaning in and nuzzling into his hand, purring a bit. Bressie smiles, relieved. Cats don’t typically take to him quite this easy, but this one seems to be a unique cat.

“I guess you’re staying with me for a little bit then, huh?” Bressie asks. The cat nips at Bressie’s finger in response, then licks it. “Alright, alright, someone must be hungry. Can’t say I keep cat food on hand, but I’ll see what I have. Come on, then.” 

Bressie heads into the kitchen, the little cat trotting right next to him. He picks up his cell phone, trying to decide who to ring about this. Eoghan’s on the radio, Laura’s… fuck, he can’t keep up with her right now. Maybe in Italy, maybe Spain. Somewhere that’s exotic and not London, probably. Niall would be a right laugh, though, and Bressie’s certain the lad could use a distraction from the anticipation of his album release. Niall it is, then.

Bressie finds a bit of leftover grilled chicken in the fridge, cutting it up. He rinses off the meat, heating it up a bit and then setting it down for the cat to eat. Once the cat is settled in, he pulls out his phone to take a quick picture, sending it off to Eoghan without any explanation. He then rings Niall, frowning in confusion when he hears something going off in the other room. Bressie spares a quick glance for the cat, who pauses for only a second before carrying on, then goes to investigate.

There, on his couch, is sitting a pile of neatly folded clothes with Niall’s phone buzzing on top. “What the…” he says, looking around and hanging up the phone. “Niall?” he calls out in confusion.

There’s no answer except the cat trotting into the room, licking at its mouth to clean up. The cat stands there, staring up at Bressie, an inquisitive look on its face and head slightly tilted.

“Niall?” Bressie asks the cat warily, his heart starting to race a little.

The cat trills in response.

“What the fuck,” he says under his breath, carefully sitting down, taking deep breaths to stave off the anxiety that he can feel bubbling. The cat… Niall, apparently, climbs carefully into Bressie’s lap, sitting down and staring up at him. “Shit,” Bressie laughs nervously, reaching out to scratch under Niall’s chin. Immediately, the cat melts. “What did you do to yourself now, chief? How’d this happen?”  
Niall makes the trilling noise again, bumping his head against Bressie’s hand and purring as Bressie scratches behind his ear. He stretches his paws out before curling up in the big man’s lap, eyes closing.

Bressie stares at the cat in his lap, feeling a surge of affection for his friend. He can’t help but smile at the low, constant, purring. “Alright, then, if we’re going to nap, at least let me get a bit more comfortable.” He stands up carefully, cradling the cat in his arms. He rolls his eyes when Niall grumbles in protest, swiping at his arm. “Shut it, you,” he scolds the cat gently. If Niall were human, he would be rolling his eyes right now, and Bressie can sense the cat wanting to do just that. He gets comfortable on the couch, stretching his long legs out in front of him and flipping on the television. 

Once Bressie is settled, Niall stands up and stretches, making Bressie’s heart skip a beat at the big yawn he lets out. Niall then circles around a few times and curls up into Bressie’s lap again, murmuring in content. 

Bressie smiles, leaning down to kiss the top of the cat’s head, watching as he falls asleep.

-

Bressie himself must have fallen asleep at some point, because when he next opens his eyes, there’s no cat in his lap. Instead, Niall is sat on the couch next to him, flipping through the channels. 

“Hey, head,” Niall says, his voice that forced cheerful Bressie recognises as a cover for the anxiety just under the surface.

“Hey, chief,” Bressie says, watching Niall carefully, trying to get a read on him and understand what in the fuck just happened.

“So… I guess you’ve got some questions, then?” Niall asks after a few tense moments between them. Bressie nods. “That was me, yes, as a cat. I… do that, turn into a cat.”

“So, let me get this straight,” Bressie says slowly as he digests Niall’s words, staring at the now human (and clothed) Niall in front of him. “I already knew you stress cleaned. But now you... also turn into a cat?”

Niall shrugs and nods. “Yup, you found me out.”

“I’m so confused. Have you always been able to turn into a cat?”

Niall nods again, then pauses and shakes his head. “Yes and no. It’s always been there, but I couldn’t actually do it until I hit puberty.”

Bressie lets out a choked, incredulous laugh. “Most lads just have to worry about their voice changing and a bit of acne and you... you started turning into a fecking cat instead.”

“To be fair, I also had acne,” Niall laughs. 

“Is it a Horan thing? Does Bobby also turn into a cat?”

“It is hereditary, but no, Bobby’s not a cat. He’s a dog. Not a wolf, mind. Looks a bit like an Irish Setter, actually.” Before Bressie can ask about more members of his family, Niall presses on. “Maura doesn’t, no. And it’s not a Devine thing, either. Just a Horan thing. It’s like... you know how witches have familiars? I’m my own familiar. I turn into the animal instead of having it as a pet.”

“Is it just when you’re stressed that you turn?”

Niall shakes his head. “No, I can turn at any time that I want. It’s just harder to control when I am stressed or anxious.”

“And the cleaning?”

Niall shrugs. “That’s just me still needing to get through the stress, even if being a cat clears my head some.”

“But cleaning, of all things. Especially as a tiny little cat. Why? What about catnip? Is that a thing for you?”

“Of course it is,” Niall laughs. “At least when I’m in cat form.”

“So why don’t you get a little high to calm down instead of cleaning?”

“Odd coming from you, Mr. Mindfulness,” Niall teases.

Bressie rolls his eyes. “I take my medication for anxiety when it gets bad. Cat nip could be like... your SSRI.”

Niall snorts, shaking his head. “No, it definitely affects me pretty much like any other cat. I’ve tried it, but it’s too hard to change back to human once I’ve rolled around in a pile of the stuff. That’s how Willie found out, believe it or not. Couldn’t figure out how to change back, was too high.”

Bressie remains silent for a moment, just picturing the scene. He imagines Willie’s face in reaction, and can’t help but laugh. “How did he react to that?”

“Turned around and walked right out the door,” Niall snickers, making Bressie laugh even harder. 

“Why’d you come here then, of all places?” Bressie asks, watching curiously as the expression on Niall’s face changes.

He shrugs. “Felt the, like… pull of it, of the change. Didn’t want to be in the hotel for it, and here just seemed… like it would be comforting.”

“And this pull, your anxiety brings it on?”

Niall nods. “If it feels like the cat is taking over, then it’s usually because of me being anxious or stressing over something. It can be especially scary when I get like that and I’m in an unfamiliar place, because then it’s not only my nerves, but also the cat’s fear. So when I can, I try to wait until I’m somewhere safe to change.”

“And then clean,” Bressie mused, smiling when Niall shrugs. 

“Started cleaning a bit as a human first, to calm me down long enough that I could get here. Then I got here and barely had enough time to get my clothes off and folded before it snuck up on me,” Niall says, sounding a bit sheepish. 

“It’s because of how messy my place is,” Bressie says solemnly, his chest swelling at the way that Niall’s face lights up with laughter, feeling proud to get such a reaction and see that more carefree Niall back. “What are you anxious about, little?”

Niall sighs, stalling for a moment by stretching his arms and legs in a way that, Bressie thinks, makes him look far more feline than Bressie has ever cottoned on to. Bressie nudges Niall with his elbow when there’s still no answer after a few long, drawn out moments. “Reckon I’m just bricking it over the album.”

“It’s a brilliant album,” Bressie interjects, automatic.

Niall’s skin flushes at the compliment before he gathers himself to continue. “It’s just… a lot, yeah? This is all me, can’t rely on the other lads at all. None of their brilliant song-writing or vocals on this one, all people’ve got is me. What if they don’t expect or like what I’ve done?”

“Look at the reaction to ‘Slow Hands.’ People are still going crazy over that song, and that was all you,” Bressie says patiently, carefully watching for Niall’s reaction as a guide for what to say next.

“That one’s a bit different than the rest of the album, though. People are going to be expecting that, and getting… the rest of it,” Niall says, starting to pick at his cuticles in a way that Bressie knows means he’s itching to get his fingers in his mouth. 

Bressie shifts over, thigh pressing against Niall’s. For added comfort, he also lifts his hand up so he can rub his thumb in slow circles on the back of Niall’s neck. He smiles to himself when Niall relaxes slightly. “And the rest of it is genius, pet. It’s gorgeous.”

“You’re just saying that to keep the electricity on at Camden,” Niall mutters under his breath, petulant.

Bressie can’t help but bark out a loud laugh at that. “While it is true that I’m grateful for your contributions, that is not clouding my judgement. I truly do think it’s a great album. You put your heart and soul into that, and I think people will respond to that.”

“That’s another thing,” Niall sighed, chewing at the stub of a nail on his index finger until he catches himself and presses his hand onto his thigh. “This is so emotional and raw in a way I’ve never been before. It’s fucking terrifying, Bres.”

It’s easy for Bressie, who has a trained eye for this sort of thing, to catch just how much pressure Niall is putting on his hand to keep from fidgeting. The bones in his hand stand out, for one, and the indents on Niall’s jeans around his fingers are more obvious than usual. Bressie reaches over and takes that hand in his own, squeezing it while he continues the ministrations on Niall’s neck. Little by little, Niall starts to relax some. 

“I know, little. I know it’s scary. You remember how nervous I was before my book came out, right? It left me feeling raw and on edge for days leading up to the release.” Bressie pauses long enough for Niall to nod in agreement, before continuing. “It’s a big deal, putting so much of yourself out there. You’re right, it is terrifying, especially when you’ve been so careful and guarded and private.”

“That’s just it,” Niall murmurs, thumb absently tracing a pattern over the back of Bressie’s hand. “People are going to be so thrown off because of that.”

“They will be,” Bressie says, in such a matter-of-fact way that Niall looks sharply up at him. “Of course they will. You don’t always wear your heart on your sleeve, and that’s okay. You are brilliant at picking and choosing what to share with the world. And you’ve decided that you’re now ready to share this raw emotion with them, let them get inside your mind and your heart. It will surprise people, but that’s not a bad thing. Your honesty is important, little. Not saying the songs you wrote for 1D weren’t honest, but this kind of honesty is something you had to do on your own terms.”  
Niall nods slowly, chewing at his lip.

“You’re ready to share it, and you did such a great job of sharing it. It’s just the anticipation that’s nuts. It was hard to cope with, maybe just as much as the initial writing of it. But you know what?” Niall tilts his head slightly in anticipation of Bressie’s answer. “It’s worth it. It feels amazing once you start getting the reaction to it. Besides, people already know some of the songs from tour, yeah?”

“That’s true,” Niall says slowly. 

“And people have loved it, right?” Niall flushes, squirming a little but nodding shyly. “You’ve already done some of the hard part, then. Sure, the general public and media may not be familiar with the songs, but you know the most important people love it. And so will everyone else, you’re going to smash it, pet. I’m so proud of you, yeah?”

Niall nods again, chewing on his lip again in silence as he digests what Bressie has told him. In lieu of saying anything, he climbs carefully into Bressie’s lap, wrapping his arms around him in a tight, slightly awkward, hug. Bressie melts with a smile, wrapping his arms around the other man and helping Niall nuzzle up against him, soothing each other.

“Why didn’t I notice earlier how much like a cat you can be sometimes?” Bressie mutters after a few minutes, stroking Niall’s hair.

Niall shrugs, pulling back to look at Bressie. “You’re a bit dense, Breslin.” He snuggles back into Bressie, snickering at the scandalised look his face. Bressie grumbles under his breath, but remains silent, just relaxing with Niall.

“You know,” Niall says as he’s leaving an hour later, “you don’t have to wait until I’m a cat to kiss me.” He smiles, somehow both angelic and smug at the same time, and leans up to press a quick kiss to Bressie’s jaw before ducking out the door in a flurry.

Bressie stares after the whirlwind of a man, pressing his thumb to the spot Niall had kissed. “You’re a bit dense, Breslin,” he repeats to himself, shaking himself out of it and going to throw the pile of clothes Niall had made for him into the laundry.

-

Months later, Bressie is sitting in the same spot on his couch, watching Niall pace around the room, back flat and head down, ears turned back. He is a bundle of nerves, the kind of nervous that Bressie has learned meant Niall won’t be able to change back to human any time soon. 

“You’re going to be great, chief,” Bressie says softly, itching to reach out and stroke him.  
Niall ignores him, continuing to pace for a few moments before jumping up on the cat tree that Bressie had gotten. He curls up on it, staring across the room, ears still back. If he had a tail, Bressie surmises, it would probably be twitching right now.

Bressie stands up, walking across the room. He looks at the shelf, debating if he should offer catnip, treats, or neither. He opts to pick up one of the little catnip-stuffed toys on a string instead- naturally, it looks like a golf ball. He smirks when Niall perks up a little at the sight of the toy, but it’s clear the cat is still too anxious to think about playing. 

Instead of throwing the toy, which was his original plan, Bressie sits on the floor next to the cat tree. “Now, little, what is it you’re so nervous about?” He reaches out, offering his hand for Niall to sniff. When Niall doesn’t pull away, Bressie strokes his head, watching for the signs that Niall is starting to relax. “You’re going to smash the show tomorrow, you know.”  
Niall huffs, gently biting on Bressie’s finger.

“Stop that,” Bressie laughs gently, pulling his finger out of the cat’s mouth. “I know these shows are huge.” He can’t help but laugh again at the ‘no shit’ look Niall is giving him. “Fucking arena shows, pet. I’m so fucking proud of you.” He returns to stroking Niall’s head, scratching a little bit under his chin in a spot he’s learned makes Niall melt. “That’s better,” he says, voice encouraging and soft when Niall does just that, ears relaxing. 

After a few moments of petting, Bressie decides to try distracting Niall. Niall just watches the first few times that Bressie flicks the toy, then drags it across the floor. Suddenly, Niall flies off the tree, going to pounce on the ball but missing when Bressie pulls it away at the last second. 

They play this way until Bressie loses track of time, him laughing and Niall frustrated but so determined to get the toy. Eventually, Niall grabs the toy and make a run for it, dashing into the kitchen. Bressie shakes his head fondly, standing up and stretching, heading for the couch. 

A few moments later, Niall walks back into the room, pulling one of Bressie’s jumpers over his head. He sits down next to Bressie, snuggling into his side with a soft sigh. 

Both remain silent, Bressie knowing that Niall needs a moment to come back to himself. Niall leans up, kissing Bressie’s cheek.

“Feeling better?” Bressie asks, kissing the corner of Niall’s jaw.

Niall shrugs, then nods. “Scared shitless of doing arena shows on my own.”

“Why’s that?”

“Just used to having the other lads to bounce off, I guess. We worked together so well, performing and just interacting with the crowd as well. And now it’s just me up there, somehow having to make huge audiences happy for two hours. What if I can’t do it?”

Bressie reaches out and takes Niall’s hand in his, squeezing it gently. “You won’t be entirely alone up there. You’ve got the lads in the band with you, so I’m sure you’ll interact with them plenty. It’s why you wanted them front and center with you, right?” He waits for Niall to nod before continuing. “And you can do it. I know you can. You’re something special, little. You’ve got so much charisma and talent that you’re going to smash it. It might take a couple shows for you to really get a feel for what works and doesn’t, but you’ll work it out.”

Niall remains silent for a moment, and Bressie watches the way he is taking in the words, weighing carefully what to say. Those moments when Niall lets his guard down and all his genuine feelings and thought processes show are moments that Bressie can never get enough of. He’s never been able to, truthfully. 

“You know,” he says finally, “part of the reason that I wanted to start the tour in Ireland is because I hoped you’d be there to support me for this first one.”

“I would never miss it,” Bressie smiles at Niall, squeezing his hand.

“Especially now that you’d be denied kisses if you did,” Niall teases, making Bressie laugh.

“And those,” Bressie says, tilting his head down so his lips brush against Niall’s, “I would never want to give up.” 

They kiss, slow and sweet, losing themselves in the moment.


End file.
